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Specforces 08-27-2006 06:28 PM

A political commentary disguised as a story
 
Freedom From

7:30 A.M.
The sun, independent of any worldly force claiming to be powerful yet mundane in nature, rose sharply at seven in the morning. Here, in front of my television, I sat adroitly, a common skill among my people. Perusing the channels rapidly, I realized there’s very little content discussed. Something caught my eye as I stopped at a news channel.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the terror level has just been raised to level red. The intelligence community has obtained information that has given this great nation the reason to believe a terrorist action may happen soon.” What’s new? Ever since September 11, 2001, the U.S. has had its fair share of scares. Reclining my chair, I stared into the ceiling. Where the hell did that spot come from? Amazing, it was, that I would find more concern in my own residence than that of the outside world. Terror had become second nature.

Peering out my window, I caught a glimpse of my next door neighbor. Anthony, husband of a fat and overbearing Italian wife and father of two demon-like children, had already made his way back from the local grocery store—it seems as though he was stocking up for the coming “war,” afraid and scared into submission like half of the American populace. I shrugged—I couldn’t bother.

A knock arrived at my front door, resounding through the hallow walls of my peaceful abode. Who the hell? I made my way to the door, uncertain of the identity of this random trespasser. Upon opening the entrance, the smell of cheap perfume and too much makeup assaulted my senses, naturally inducing my gag reflex and causing me to wince uncontrollably.

WHAT THE HELL?! There, at the opening of my now infiltrated home, stood the hellish lady I dreaded so very much, my neighbor’s overweight housewife. As she spoke, the smell of cigarettes and nicorette crept into my nostrils, further adding to my complete disgust of this woman. “Oh… my… gawd…, did you hear? Al Qaeda might strike us again today. What aaar you doing to get prepaaad?” Her New York accent made me vomit, or at least I wished it would have. Maybe then she might smell better, covered in the eggs and bacon I had one hour prior.

I slammed the door into her face and started to hobble back towards my comfortable spot—I couldn’t be bothered. I could hear her ranting and complaining as I sat down, but I could only make out a few words. “Damn hippy… how rude… why I never…!” These people, my neighbors, had fallen victim to induced fear of corporate America. Surfing the channels once more, I understood the tactics of the media. It seemed as though every channel was covering this story.

America, land of the free? Free from what exactly? If freedom meant being afraid all of the time, I didn’t want any part of it. Work in three hours, should I even go? I worked at a telecommunications call center; we handled all of the 411 calls in the area. Though it was a fairly unfulfilling career, it still put food in my fridge. The American Dream my ass. Half of the employees probably wouldn’t even show today, seeing as they were afraid of the “inevitable” terrorist attack.

My cat Turk jumped into my lap. Staring into his innocent eyes a feeling of envy overcame me. You’re so damn lucky, sometimes I wish we could all be as carefree as you. The harlequin cat purred and nestled himself into the crevice between the couch and myself. Ignorant of the world abroad, he led a happy and pampered life, only worrying about when food was served and stalking random rats that infested my basement. Life isn’t that simple for me.

Even though I was extremely apathetic of the world situation, I couldn’t help but feel the most miniscule amount of concern. The helplessness we all felt, instilled into our tiny brains from the beginning of our lives, still grasped my consciousness and held me prisoner. Our own personal identities, systematically stripped from the beginning of our “mandatory education” till now, were to be molded based on a grand plan, seemingly derived from the works of a master influencer.

Creativity and individuality were scoffed at throughout our developmental stages to some degree and conformity was celebrated. Dissent wasn’t conducive to the master plan. Who’s damn plan? I sure as hell don’t want to be part of this plan. At least my lackadaisical attitude kept me sane to a point.

talisman 08-27-2006 09:51 PM

Re: A political commentary disguised as a story
 
Wow... I didn't think you the type to write something like that.

Specforces 08-27-2006 11:26 PM

Re: A political commentary disguised as a story
 
I like to push buttons.

The_Q 08-28-2006 05:33 PM

Re: A political commentary disguised as a story
 
Quote:

Originally Posted by Spec
These people, my neighbors, had fallen victim to induced fear of corporate America.

Allow me to point out my beef with this sentence.

Quote:

Originally Posted by rambling
These people, my neighbors, had fallen victim to induced fear of [b}corporate America.[/b]

That's not corporate Amercia at all. Corporate America has nothing at all to gain from people hiding in their houses (except, maybe, the TV companies).

Other than that... F.A. Hayek already wrote this back in 1944. He called it The Road to Serfdom.

http://www.mises.org/TRTS.htm.


Q

Specforces 08-29-2006 01:32 PM

Re: A political commentary disguised as a story
 
And buying supplies and stocking up on medications and other goods doesn't benefit anyone either.

The_Q 08-29-2006 04:08 PM

Re: A political commentary disguised as a story
 
Quote:

Originally Posted by Spec
And buying supplies and stocking up on medications and other goods doesn't benefit anyone either.

Because that's the whole of corporate America.</sarcasm war>

Another thought HAD occured to me. Maybe you were satirizing most people's failsafe of blaming corporate America and the media. I wish I was right.

Q

Omeganitros 08-29-2006 05:50 PM

Re: A political commentary disguised as a story
 
And that, in turn, leads you to wonder how many works are misinterpreted as being more sophisticated than they really are.


P.S. I didn't read it because my awesome AP English teacher just let me borrow her copy of Eats, Shoots and Leaves. Sorry Spec, I bet it's really good.

Specforces 08-29-2006 08:56 PM

Re: A political commentary disguised as a story
 
I understand what you're trying to say Q, it's not what I was getting at though, maybe that's how it looks though.

It's all gravy.

The_Q 08-31-2006 06:19 PM

Re: A political commentary disguised as a story
 
Quote:

Originally Posted by Insightful Greek Letter
And that, in turn, leads you to wonder how many works are misinterpreted as being more sophisticated than they really are.

And that, sir, is one reason I dropped out of AP English. All of that interpretation is not only bull**** on one level but a whole different one. How do you find universal truths from something so ambiguous? How do you make assumptions about the so-called "human condition" with no real data and a bunch of opionated words from a non-expert?

I hated English.

Q


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